“Tell me,” Channing asks in a conversational tone, “how did you get into Laurelin’s party?”
It takes me a second to realize he means the Black and White Ball. It’s such a funny thing to talk like normal people when I’m sitting here with my assets out, but somehow, it feels okay, if I can call it that. I shoot him a saucy grin.
“Let’s just say that a lady has her ways.”
He raises a brow at me.
“A lady? I had no idea you were a lady, honey, seeing what your mouth did to me last night.”
I let out a giggle.
“Okay, a harlot has her ways then,” I amend.
He grins at me, the electricity between us strong. “In other words, you know someone who knows their way around a computer, I presume?”
I put a finger to my lips.
“Shh! Don’t tell.”
He merely grins, but doesn’t press further. Then, to my surprise, the handsome alpha male whips up a delicious lunch for us.
“Mmm,” I say, biting into the tangy pasta. “Vodka sauce is my favorite.”
He grins.
“Did you notice that I made it from scratch? It’s not from a jar.”
I swallow a huge forkful.
“I did notice! But where did you learn?”
He grins.
“Believe or not, I love cooking and have since I was a kid. My family’s had a chef on staff for as long as I can remember, but they were always kind and appreciated my interest in the kitchen. So I was always underfoot, helping to shuck corn and peel potatoes ever since I was about eight.”
My eyes fly open.
“Are you serious? So you learned from the best!”
He grins, before tearing off a huge bite of garlic bread with his teeth.
“I did,” he acknowledges. “My parents only hired the best chefs, so basically I got a five-star education in the kitchen before I’d even hit my teens.”
I begin to laugh.
“No wonder this is so delicious,” I giggle. “Plus, this sauce has cream in it too, right?”
“Yep, cream imported from Italy. Like I mentioned, it’s the best.”
I gasp.
“This cream isn’t canned, is it? Was it overnighted from Europe?”
The handsome billionaire winks at me.
“Yes, it was put on a plane this morning. There’s a private concierge service that specializes in gourmet delicacies, and I think they have their own aircraft for handling deliveries like this. But yes, the cream is from Italy, and the tomatoes are San Marzano. From the Valle del Sarno, I believe.”
I gawk at him, barely able to grasp his enormous wealth.
“It must be nice, being so rich that you can get ingredients from all over the world at the drop of a hat.”
Channing inclines his black head.
“It is very nice, but even more nice, is meeting a sweet, sassy girl like yourself. And you got into the ball using a ruse, which is very impressive, if I do say so myself.”
“I did,” I acknowledge. “But it’s my secret and I’m not going to tell you how. But Chan,” I say slowly. “You’re not angry that I snuck in, are you?”
He throws his black head back and laughs.
“Definitely not. Although my sister might be, seeing that it was her shindig.”
I nod slowly.
“God, I hope not because it was all in good fun. But tell me about your sister. Her name is Laurelin, right? Does she always host the Black and White Ball?”
He rolls his eyes a bit before nodding.
“Yeah, but it drives her crazy every year. I keep telling Laurie to stop, and that someone else can pick up the reins, but she’s devoted to the charity. You know the ball raises money for muscular dystrophy right?”
I nod.
“Yes, and I apologize about that. We didn’t pay for our tickets, obviously.”
“We?” his brow quirks.
I laugh.
“Me and my friend, Sarah Testes, were both sneaking in, but she got sick at the last minute. Of course, her name isn’t really Sarah Testes. Eew, testes. Can you imagine?”
He grins.
“Sounds just as good as Trixie Dickson,” Channing laughs. “I like both names. My sister would get a kick out of them, to be honest.”
I smile, enjoying the camaraderie.
“Are you two close?”
He nods.
“Yes. Laurelin and me are fortunate because we’re siblings who weren’t forced into competition with each other. That happens sometimes with rich families, but not to us. Laurelin is someone I know I can rely on no matter what.”
I smile. “That must be nice. What was your family like?”
The mood changes, and Channing sits back, running a hand through that jet-black hair.
“Our father was an absolute prick, but our mother more than made up for it.” He looks at me and I can sense he wants to change the subject. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
I shake my head. “I always wanted a little sister to take care of, but my parents could only have me. My parents and I very close, and I always try to visit them when I can, but the closest thing I’ve had to a sibling is probably my friend Ava … er, I mean Sarah Testes.”